London
by SlytherinElektra
Summary: After an incident in Chicago, SHIELD decides to put Bruce Banner in a super-cage: immune to Stark technology, to Mjolnir and to guns. But not magic proof. Help comes from an unexpected source.
1. Encounter

Part of me knew it was going to end like this. That they would cage me like the monster they thought I was, that my freedom was only temporary. No one trusted me out there, no matter the effort I needed to be calm and without any problem. No matter the lengths I went to keep the other guy under control. No matter how useful both me and him had been they would always fear me and always suspect me. They built traps for me, serum to neutralize me... on both sides. The bad guys didn't like me because of my strength and the good guys feared me due to the other guy's irrationality. They would put me away with any excuse.

And so, there I was, in an upgraded and improved version of the cage SHIELD had done for me, sitting in a corner, trying to avoid my reflection in the glass. Forever trapped by the ones who were supposed to be the good guys. The one supposed to be on my side. I had thought that I was finally proving myself, making everyone see I was more than a monster. When I met Tony and the others I even felt like part of something good. Accepted and valued for who I was.

But I should've known better. Tony and the people like them are not the authority, not the system. The authority is the one who sent a nuclear missile to end the battle while we were fighting, not caring about all the people there. _Safety comes first_, they would say and I was a safety hazard. At least, The Hulk was. And after all the damage I'd made in Chicago they were not going to let me out of that place in a really, really long time. I could understand their angle, of course, but it didn't feel right. I had fought and risked many things for them, I had helped with all I had... I was not guilty. I did not deserve a life in prison, did I?

At least they were not experimenting on me. For now.

The Avengers had been angry, of course, and three times they had tried to break me free. As the Hulk had now and then. But to no avail. The cage had been designed by great engineers to withstand high pressure, high temperatures and a lot of strength. Built with the materials they used in travels to outer space and with a some former Stark industries employees to make sure the cage couldn't be penetrated with any weapon built there. It was also immune to Mjolnir and the Captain's shield, for some reason. The highest technology, just the keep me out of the streets. To make it worse, the cage was transported to a different place every time the Avengers tried to rescue him, making everything way more difficult. I had no idea where I could be. And I couldn't be anywhere else.

Since there was a great risk of the _operation _(yes, they were calling my imprisonment a security operation) being breached by the Avengers, very few people had contact with me. Alone with myself, of all people. And with the other guy, that great company.I was on the verge of a serious depression and I knew it. The rescue attempts from the Avengers had been nice, yes, but... the astounding technology of this place reminded me of what I was, of what I've done. My many sins. The monster who needs to be off the streets, off society. What had happened in Chicago had been dreadful but no one died from his hand (or the Hulk's). Yes, there had been injured people and great damage but...

Did I really deserve this?

Was this all my life was going to be? In jail or in the run for the rest of my life?

Was it even worth it?

One thursday evening (I really couldn't know if it was Thursday or not, or what part of the day it was but I had a slight idea based on the times I was fed) I was simply staring into the ceiling when a strange green smoke started spreading in the cage. As much as I tried to pinpoint the point of origin, I couldn't. Great. Just great. If they had to gas it was probably because something _not nice_ would come afterwards. Part of me wanted to fight, break out the wall, spit in my jailer's faces... but mostly I was tired. Of them, of me, of everything. And giving up was so easy and sweet... I had fought enough already.

_Let them come_, were the last thoughts in my mind as the smoke filled my lungs and I passed out in my cell. Maybe this was the end. Maybe the gas a soft way of getting rid of me.

And maybe it was all for the best.

When I woke up the first thing I noticed was that there soft music playing somewhere. Lowbeat, gloomy rock and roll. That was strange. In the whole time after Chicago I had not heard one lone note of music. I had asked for music and books and magazines but I was not very succesful. My jail was isolated from the rest of the world, and that meant no cd players or magazine racks.

The second thing I noticed was that I was laying on a soft, fluffy surface. I opened one of my eyes and saw pale green sheets and a black duvet. What the hell? I woke up completely and saw a clean white room, quite small, with nothing except a black nightstand, a shelf with some books and a painting of a green, dark forest. I had no idea where this place could be.

I stood up, putting the sheets aside and looked through the small window of the room. I was apparently in a small house, on a residential street. No idea where. But something looked different here, really different. I saw a young girl riding on her bike and an old couple with their dog. Strange. Why would SHIELD or the government bring me to a city where people actually lived? Wasn't the point of having me in jail preventing just this? Maybe this was not SHIELD. Maybe one of my friends had found a way to get me out using that smoke. Or maybe not. There were no chains or cuffs on me, which was a good sign.

I looked at the books, trying to figure out the identity of the owner of the house. There were some classics (Shakespeare, Wilde, Joyce...), some history books and, surprisingly, some of my books. Maybe this was a fan? I also found a copy of the _Evening Standard_. Odd. Wasn't that a british newspaper?

I put my shoes on (they had been left near the bed) and went out of the room. There were some posters on the wall, of films and music groups. A perfectly normal house of someone who lived there. But who had the power to get him out of that impenetrable jail and just go home as if nothing happened? There someone singing along the music the door on the left. I moved slowly, just in case. I had no idea what all this meant. I stood on the doorway of the room from which the music came, a big living room with a small tv, a great window and a sofa.

There was a tall man there, barefoot, wearing only black pants and a black t-shirt. His hair was black too and one of his hands was bandaged. I could only see his back as he was organising some books in a really big bookshelf that was also there while singing along with the music.

"_Little beast, are you as me? ...Uhmhum... We won't be broken, there's no curse we haven't spoken..."_

He apparently sensed my presence and turned.

"Doctor Banner, you awoke! I trust my tiny guest room was comfortable enough?"

Oh my god. I knew that voice, I knew that face, I knew that person.

Loki. Loki. The owner of the house was Loki. Mass murderer Loki. Crazy Loki.

"Why the fearful expression, Doctor? Please, do not concern yourself. I have no plans of taking over your world. Anymore."

A sly smile played on his lips.

"Would you like some breakfast, Doctor? I made some tea."

I didn't know if I should be scared or thankful. What the hell did this mean? And why was Loki being so civil and... human?

"You rescued me from that cell? Why?"

"Well, my brother and his comrades were not being too succesful, now, were they?"

Loki left the room gracefully, still humming the song (_No_ prayer..._ and no hell but the one we made_) and went to the kitchen. Could Loki really be leaving here like a normal person? The alien prince? The CRAZY alien prince? And why help me? I followed him to the kitchen, confused.

"Why would you help me? Are you expecting something in return?" I asked, nervous. I knew that if there was something evil the other guy might show up and I didn't want to go all smash-mode when there people around. Loki went to a pile of books in a chair (the guy had books everywhere, I realised. Never thought I would have that in common with Loki, of all people) and retrieved a magazine. He opened it and handed it to me, calm as ever. I saw the article in the page. It read "_The day we managed to capture the beast_" and featured a photograph of me in my lab coat.

"They are very unkind to you, Doctor Banner. Saying horrible things, degrading you. And everywhere in the media they keep saying how beastly you are, that you're even a worst monster than me, just... distasteful things. And I have read your books, they have helped me understand the working of this planet. You are obviously far more intelligent than the people who write this articles. I am not fond of insults like those. I am not fond of bullies like the governments, of their cages and cells. They use the raw force to squash us, to break us. They should know they are no rival to a clever should know they will always lose."

So, apparently Loki kind of liked me. I didn't know if I should be scared or flattered.

On the other hand, I was starting to like him. And that should definitely scare me.

He poured some tea in two cups, cut a couple of pieces of chocolate cake and smiled.

"Besides, if us monsters don't help each other, who will?"

For some reason, his smile was not as creepy as it used to be. He looked calm, stable. The crazy was still there, but it had faded a lot. Even if his expression was not creepy, his face was. There something that looked like half-healed chemical burns surrounding his pale eyes, a long scar that went down his face splitting the left eyebrow and crossing the whole cheek, as well as some other badly healed or scarred cuts and burns in his face and neck.

"Aren't you supposed to be a prisoner in Asgard? Thor thinks you're there, at least." I said.

"And if you go to Asgard there is a man in my cell wearing my face and voice and body. But he's not me, only another prisoner I'm using. I only had to fool the gatekeeper with a couple of spell.. _et voilà!_ I couldn't bear that place any longer."

The guy was not dumb.

"They won't look for you if they don't know you're gone. Smart." I sipped the tea."God! This is delicious!" Loki smiled at the comment. "Where are we, by the way?"

"London. Is a good place to go unnoticed. There are so many strange people here that a man with scars in his face and a house full of books is almost considered normal."

"You've been living here long?"

"About ten months.

god of mischief had been living here, in London, drinking tea and reading about physics. Maybe he wasn't as crazy as I once thought. Maybe there was more to Loki than met the eye. This was really turning out to be an interesting day. I was still shocked and maybe I shouldn't be trusting the guy, but... what the hell.

He saved me when I had already given up.

And I was grateful.

And the tea was really delicious.

A/N: There is not enough Bruce/Loki friendship in this site, so I'm fixing it. Dont' know if I'll follow or leave it here. Hope you liked it!

Reviews are love!


	2. Friendship

The tea kept being delicious until I finished it.

"So... I take it you're not evil anymore?" I asked, hesitant. I was thankful, yeah, but being charmingly having tea with Loki seemed a bit surreal.

Loki smiled.

"One could say that I have put my evilness on hold, at the very least."

I would have loved to hear something less vague, but come think of it, him admitting he was good would've been a lot more suspicious. No, vague was good. Vague was Loki not admitting he hadn't done anything grandiloquent in the last year.

I took a look at the house, surprised at how human it all looked. It was not excessively tidy - bordering on chaotic in some places. But I was taken aback of how human it looked. And British.

The tea.

The scones.

A Shakespeare's globe program.

A Doctor Who dvd-set.

And I was in his house. I tried to remember any major catastrophes in London over the last year. None came to mind. No terrorist attacks. No weird pranks. Nothing. In fact, in one of the Evening Standard's floating around the apartment the mayor boasted about the low criminality rate they had achieved. On the year Loki had been living there. Which made no sense at all. What the hell had he been doing if it was not mischief for almost a year?

I looked at him and there he was, my former enemy, going through the pages of a book of poems written by John Keats and subconsciously whispering some verses _- O sorrow!_- How could this be the same person that had attacked us? How could he be the one that threw Tony off a window?

There was still a touch on evilness, of chaos and craziness but the murderous intent seemed almost gone. I was staring at him, all green eyes and pale skin. If he was having such a nice life, why risk everything by helping me? I could alert the Avengers and have him arrested.

"Quit trying to figure me out, Dr. Banner. It is an already lost cause."

There was a ring on the door and he got up, saying he'd be back soon. I followed a bit after, curious about who might be on the door. Part of me wanted it to be Doom or another super-criminal, so this would start making sense. No such luck. It was an old lady.

"Jack, dear, I was wondering if you had the book I lent you last week? My grandson is asking for it."

"Sure, Mrs. Roberts, let me get it. And do come in, please! I just made tea."

I was rooted to the spot disbelieving what my ears had heard.

THAT. BRITISH. ACCENT.

Loki had a British accent. This was so surreal.

"I cannot stay" the old lady was saying "Ronnie is upstairs and... Jack, dear, I don't mean to alarm you but there is an intruder in your kitchen."

Of course. That woman had seen me and been concerned for _Jack's _safety. What the hell.

"Sorry, let me introduce you. Mrs. Roberts is my landlady and this is Dr. Rogers, a friend from the United States who has come to stay for a few days." That accent. And now Loki winked at me, probably so I would follow his lead. I was a prisoner only hours ago and then I had woken up in a parallel reality where a god winked at you and there's tea and poetry.

Live and learn.

"Charmed, dear." the woman said "Are you here to celebrate?"

"Celebrate what?"

The lady looked at me like it was obvious and then realization dawned on her. She shouted in Loki's direction while he found the book.

"You haven't told him! You humble boy, you!" and then she told me "Jack got his doctorate last week beating all kinds of records of speed and quality and excellence and so many more things. I'm so proud. Really. I have the clipping somewhere... No, this is from three months ago."

"Can I see it?" There was a picture of Loki in that paper, too, from _The Sun _from a section of shocking news. I was curious.

_Local man gets a full degree of Chemistry -in only one year!_

_No one believed that Jack Connelly, a Londoner of 29 years, would fulfill his dream of getting a degree from Cambridge in less than nine months, and they laughed at him as he signed up for all the courses of the degree at the same time. But -who's laughing now? Connelly passed all his subjects - and with flying colours! "One would think there's some sort of trickery there" says one of his professors "but there's not. He's just an extremely intelligent person. A true gifted." Mr Connelly's studies were held back by..._

"Surely this you knew, right?" The old lady said, suspicious.

"Yes, of course, but I didn't know about the doctorate. You should tell me these things, Jack!" I said, nervous. "He's always so mysterious, isn't he?"

"That he is. Too mysterious and too skinny if you ask me. Maybe you can convince him to eat better, Doctor. He pays no attention to me."

"I will try." I say with the best smile I can muster. Because getting Loki to eat should be primary concern. This was all so weird. So surreal.

The lady left and I looked at Loki, not knowing what to think.

"So... Jack. I hear you are a scientist."

"What can I say." He answered. "I was bored and the mortals of Cambridge had naught but kind words for me and my knowledge. I will admit, it was flattering. You can read my thesis if you like, it's on the top shelf." He said and handed in to me. I read the front page.

"You got a doctorate on applied chemistry and toxicology in three months." He nodded. "And what's the thesis about?"

"The use of arsenic in new medical techniques. Poison as a life saver."

"You're saying that something that was always considered toxic could be constructive." I say, suddenly noticing the similitudes between Loki and the arsenic. Toxic but capable of good things too, apparently. "You defend poison."

"In one thousand and nine pages of glory." He says with that accent.

"You're crazy."

"So I've been told."

After a while Loki left to do mysterious things and told me to feel at home. He gave me the number of a contact that could make me a fake ID (with any name I chose!) and assured me that he'd cast a spell so people couldn't recognize me. (_I wouldn't want to be caught harbouring a fugitive, now, would I? _he said with that accent_)._ I stayed in the house for a bit. Suddenly I noticed the books right next to the door- books by Jack London and Michael Connelly. So that's where he got his alias. The sofa was really inviting so I took Loki's thesis (Too curious to ignore it) and lay there, reading it while the music kept playing.

A piece of heaven.

After a couple of hundred fascinating pages I went out to the city, to have some fresh air. Loki had given me his spare key so I could return when I wanted to. It was a beautiful, cloudy day and a bit rainy sometimes, but quite warm. I found myself enjoying the light english summer rain, the crowded streets, the coffee shops from a hundred and one different franchises. Ah, London. I sat in a park reading the newspaper, purposefully avoiding the news about me and my escape. Let them look for me. Let them.

After having lunch I went to see Loki's contact, Katia, who made me a bunch fake documents with my new name, Anthony Rogers. I learned that his friends called "Jack" Loki because he was a myth geek, and that they were all aware that he was a fugitive. In fact, she didn't even ask me why I needed the documents, but instead helped me contact Tony to tell them I was fine and to spread some false clues about my whereabouts. There were many anarchist posters hanging around, _fight the system_ kind of things. The girl then invited me to a party that night in her house. So very nice. These english people were so polite.

"Fugitives of justice are more than welcome, so tell Loki to come by too." She said and shook my hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Rogers and welcome to London."

I walked near the river in the afternoon, amazed at how my luck had changed. I sat on the bench, watching the Thames go by. Finally free.

I returned home (well, to Loki's home) shortly after and looked Loki up on the internet, still a bit skeptic. All I found about Jack Connelly were Cambridge publications, the articles Mrs. Roberts had collected from the journals and an article on a history magazine signed by him, called "_The unspeakable cruelty of Odin_". Someone had daddy issues. I heated some of the tea Loki had made earlier and felt completely at ease. It was as if I had left Bruce Banner, the Hulk and their many problems on the states and I was finally free from everything.

Loki came back around seven and smiled at me.

"I am glad you are here Doctor Banner, because as soon as I change we are going to dinner and then to the clubs, to celebrate."

"Celebrate? What?"

"What else? That we are free, that we are intelligent and that the night is young."

A voice inside told me that going out partying with Loki was crazy and that I should probably get out while I had the chance. Escape. I ignored that voice. No one knew who I was with. This was only Dr. Anthony Rogers having some fun with his eccentric british colleague Dr. Connelly, also known as Loki.

Five minutes later Loki got out all dressed in black, wearing a Joy Division t-shirt, black pants and a black leather jacket that made his pale skin stand out even more.

"Dude, you are tight. Those clothes leave no room for imagination." I mentioned. Now I was talking to Loki as if he was an old friend of mine. Surreal, but nice.

"Like you mortals would say: I'm sexy and I know it."

We had dinner on a place called _The curry palace_ and then went to the Soho to get, in Loki's words, a nice, long alcohol intoxication. We spoke about having horrible dads. About attempted suicide, and how to rebuild your life afterwards. About the feeling of being hated, the toxicity of people's hatred and fear. About the horrors of imprisonment, even if his had been quite worse (like in the myth, snake poison had been involved). From bar to bar, Loki would shout _I regret nothing! _into the night. Some times I found myself joining him. London knew we regretted nothing and was okay with it. Okay with our crimes.

And then we found a karaoke place and continued getting wasted there. Then it was Loki's turn, and the power and beauty of his singing had me almost crying.

_"They can keep me alive,_

_'Til I tear the walls_

_'Til I slave your hearts_

_And they take your souls_

_And what have we done?_

_Can it be undone?_

_In the evil's heart_

_In the evil's soul" _

And I stood and clapped and Loki winked at me and we drank and the night was perfect. I sang, too, more happy than I'd been in years, getting back at the world, getting back at my captors at all the people.

"_Don't look at me that way..._

_it was an honest mistake."_

Because Chicago had been an honest mistake. And I deserved this, I deserved London, for all my troubles. Not prison.

I found myself reaching epic alcohol levels and when I thought the night couldn't get better we went to Katia's party and it was ELO night. A band so cheerful that it only multiplied my euphoria.

The party was amazing.

It was smiles and laughter.

It was toasting and dancing and singing your lungs out.

And if ever the ghost of sadness passed through then the song stopped it.

"_Don't bring me down!" _

And we were dancing, and Loki's scar-surrounded eyes were saying _this is our night_ and a young girl was flirting with me and I couldn't remember how long had it been since the last time people had looked at me without fear, with so many smiles. And suddenly Loki and I were dueting _Turn to stone _and people were telling us that we were awesome (after all the pain, after all the hate and the prison).

And I was so drunk I became overtly sincere. Excessively sincere. I patted Loki on the shoulder and started slurring.

"You know, yesterday in my... in my cell, I was pretty down. I thought, yeah... I thought if they have to kill me, then so be it... What do I have to lose? Everything just sucked. And suddenly I was here, in London, and it's been great... You, you showed me that.. you know, that is cool to be alive. So, thank you, Loki - kay? Thank you for helping me. You- you didn.. didn't need to, but you did. You're amazing, this city is amazing and thanks for helping me."

He flashed one of his smiles.

"I regret nothing."

He didn't regret helping me because he was awesome, my drunken mind told me.

And the night continued, and the music and the people and the booze and suddenly _Last train to London _was on with its happy lyrics (_everybody was there, everybody to share, it felt so right_) and I was smiling because it truly felt so right.

"_But I really want tonight to last forever"_ I sang, even if it was tonight was almost over because it was morning already and then I collapsed on the sofa, still smiling.

I fell asleep soon after that and when I woke up Loki was drooling on my lap, softly snoring. Up close his face looked even more messed up. After a couple of hours of silent peace he stirred and we left the place after thanking the barely-awake hostess. I had the hangover of the century while Loki was still as good as new (_Have you forgotten that I am a god_, _puny mortal?_) but we both spent the day on the house reading, writing, discussing politics, eating, snoozing everywhere.

After that crazy night and the calm next day I turned down my skepticism and simply enjoyed the company.

The next weeks were incredibly pleasant. I kept expecting for Loki to blow up, to threaten me, to kill someone, or even tell me about his secret evil plan and probably ask me to join him. It didn't happen. He had all the mannerisms of evil Loki, he WAS evil Loki and regretted nothing, but he just wasn't doing evil things. He was still in favour of a main dominant leader for earth, he just didn't have the strength to try it again. Not after his failure had cost him so much pain.

I could talk to him for hours. Spill my darkest secrets and find a sympathetic response. He knew what it was to feel like a monster. To be truly alone. To live days and days, weeks, months in a cage. When I woke up sweating, imagining myself back at the cell, he would be there, offering some tea. _Forget about it_, he would say. _And celebrate that you are free now. That we've been more intelligent than them.  
_

At first, I thought he was handling his time in prison much better than I did - always so cool and detached, regretting nothing, pretending not to care. But he had nightmares, too. Once I found him asleep with tear stains on his cheeks. The scars were not only in his face, but everywhere. He ate very little and vomited more than once. I offered to give him a check up but he violently refused. I decided not to ask any further because it was a topic that clearly unsettled him.

But most of the time it was smiles and jokes. We went to the cinema, to the musicals, we ate out. I met a lot people. _This is my american friend, Dr. Rogers_, Loki would say and everyone was delighted to meet me. I was delighted to meet them as well. We talked, we walked, we went back to the karaoke. Loki used magic to get money, so it was never an issue. I finished reading his thesis and it was excellent. One thousand and nine pages of glory. Sometimes I would go to Tesco and buy some horribly sweet soda and popcorn and it was movie night. After some many years I had a flatmate and it was good. Of course, sometimes I missed home and sometimes Loki's smugness was a bit excessive, but most of the time he left me on my own and wrote ot left, or I would leave to take a walk near the Thames or have some beers in the centre. All in all, it was a nice way of living. Nothing to do with the high-security prison.

After two months, Tony and the others succeeded in making the governor absolve me so I was free to go back, with my own name. Of course when I went back I couldn't mention Loki because A) he was supposed to be in a cell in Asgard and B) my friends would want to use the info I had on him to hunt him down - and that was not happening.

He came to see me off at the airport and I was very touched by the gesture. Maybe it was just his impeccable manners, but after two months living with the guy it was nice to know that he cared, behind his snarky and aloof exterior. Just before he left I couldn't help myself and hugged him. He was stiff at first, but then returned the hug.

"Thank you, Loki. For everything. For inviting my into your house, for listening, for giving me this incredible holiday from myself. I have no words."

"It was my pleasure, Dr. Rogers."

And so he was leaving, clad in his black leather jacket, just the same way I was leaving London.

"Loki!"

He turned.

"I regret nothing."

He smiled and winked at me.

I felt a couple of tears falling as the plane took off.

_Thank you, London._

A/N: This is like the less angsty thing I've written EVER, so forgive me if it's not too good. I was hesitant to post it (fearing that I would spoil a good oneshot with a mediocre continuation), but I had so much fun writing I decided to give it a try. The songs are _Seven Devils_ by Florence and the machine (look up the lyrics and imagine Loki singing it, it's just gorgeous), _An honest mistake _by The Bravery and _Don't bring me down_ and _Last train to London_by the Electric Light Orchestra. I really want to know what you thought because "happy" is not really my scene and I am very uncertain about this piece.

Anyways, REVIEW, for the love of Loki!


	3. Reunion

Time went by, slowly. Most people were just happy that I was back and didn't ask many questions. Maybe so I would still have a safe haven if I needed it. Maybe so they wouldn't be able to answer anything if some authority asked. Maybe they were angry at the whole thing and prefered to forget it. Maybe they just didn't care. It was OK, because I was not willing to give them many answers.

Only Tony was more insistent, terribly curious after seeing me return so relaxed after spending two months running away from the authorities, as a fugitive. He was convinced I had outside help and he tried making me tell him who had been helping me through many means: computers, emotional blackmail (from _I'm your friend _to _I just wanna thank them_)... But none of them worked. I knew that if I said something Loki would be in trouble (he was supposed to be in prison in Asgard, after all) so I kept quiet.

There were new missions, new enemies and my time away didn't seem so important.

The first mention to my new friend came some months later. Clint got very ill after a fight, no one knew exactly what he had - but whatever it was, it was bad. At first, the doctors recommended bed rest and antibiotics, but he only got worse. He spent all day in bed, unable to move, feverish. With each day he got worse and no one was able to give a solution. Apparently, the pathogens had gotten too deep in his system, in an intracellular level. It was only going to get worse. And then even worse. Then I remembered that a chapter in Loki's thesis dealt with this type of affection and offered to give it a try. It was quickly turned down, people said I was crazy for wanting to give Arsenic to an already ill man.

But then Clint went into a coma and, a bit desperate, Natasha decided my idea was worth a try. With the help of Loki's findings always guiding me via the Cambridge server, I made a chemical mixture with a base of diluted arsenic and injected it to our fallen friend.

It worked like a charm.

Everyone was happy to have a man with medical knowledge among their own and thanked me and my was nice.

But Tony, apart from being happy, was suspicious. The thesis had only gotten on-line a short while ago, and I already knew much parts of it by heart, as if I had studied it.

"I assume you know him , then. This Doctor... Jack Connelly?"

Well, I knew him. That much was undeniable.

"Yeah, British friend of mine, Jack. Showed me his work before he published, quite interesting, right? I think you would like him, by the way. The guy is total party animal."

_Let it slide, Tony. __Don't dig any deeper.  
_

"A british guy, Bruce? And why haven't I heard of him? JARVIS, find everything you can on this guy."

I was scared that he wouldn't find almost anything and get even more suspicious but Loki had obviously improved his cover since I left, giving Tony a reasonable amount of documentation proving Dr. Connelly's existence and his life in England. And the newspaper articles, of course.

"Doesn't like cameras much, this guy?"

All the photos were out-of-focus, blurred, or he had his hair in his face.

"He had acid thrown at his face. It's pretty messed up."

It was story I heard him use. Seemed fitting enough. Tony looked at the articles and documentation.

"Ok, I'll forgive you for having a brit friend you never told me about 'cos this guy is obviously a total genius and he kind of saved Clint's life. So... acid in his face, what happened?" He asked as he stared into the screens, zooming in a blurry picture.

"He's never told me exactly what happened." I said, trying to be as truthful as possible. "But he's had many problems with the authorities. He had many issues with his dad, too. Serious issues. That's why it took him so long to go to college."

"You're friends with all sorts of messed up people, aren't you?" Tony asked, funny.

"That's why I like you so much."

I was glad that Loki had improved his cover and that Tony had bought the Jack Connelly identity. And even more happy when he left it alone. I also wondered what would have become of Clint if I had never read Loki's thesis. But it was better not to think about that.

Everyone continued with their life and there was no reminders of my time in London. Sometimes I missed it. When I had a cup of tea. When I saw karaoke place on the street. Sometimes I wished back there, with the Thames and the beers and Loki winking at me wearing that leather jacket. I missed the movies, the sodas, my little room with the green sheets, the little parks everywhere, the tourists, our small living room where we watched the BBC and I joked about how much Loki and Thor resembled Merlin and Arthur.

After some time, the guys who had imprisoned me had been fired and tried for wrongful arrest. I was living with Tony (and occasionally, Pepper) and had a lab to myself. It was good. Nice.

Until one fateful day Thor stormed in Stark tower, while I was having lunch with Tony and Steve.

"Friends, I fear I bear terrible news." He said.

"Nice to see you too, buddy." Tony said, arching an eyebrow.

"This is no time for jests, friend Stark. The Chitauri are back. And they seek retribution."

Tony visibly paled at this.

"Do not panic, Man of Iron, the surviving Chitauri know not of your implication in the blast that killed so many of them. Since they were no survivors of your explosion... the Chitauri blame my brother."

"Well, that's a relief." Tony said, breathing again.

I was not relieved at all. A horde of angry aliens were targeting someone I cared about, for something he hadn't done. Thor's expression hardened. He was obviously taking this very seriously and continued talking.

"A Chitauri squad entered Asgard unnoticed not long ago and breached our prison walls. They got into Loki's cell and slit his throat."

It was terrible for the poor man on his place but I was thankful it was not really him.

Steve was horrified.

"God, Thor, I'm so sorry."

Tony looked a bit disturbed, too, maybe feeling a bit guilty. Of course, the Chitauri had supposedly killed Loki for something he had done, he probably felt it was a bit his fault.

"What they ignored, as I did, was that it was not truly Loki. He had escaped our custody and magicked a man to wear his face and looks. The Chitauri's search for the real Loki led them to Midgard, here, but I lost track of their whereabouts."

I was a bit concerned. Loki had his magic to protect himself but the Chitauri had gotten into Asgard's prison like it was nothing. They were really pissed and I didn't even want to know what they could do to him before killing him.

"The Chitauri are a dangerous race and could cause great damage to this planet. I ask you to help me locate them with your technology so we can stop them before it's too late." Thor declared. He never mentioned his brother but it was obvious he was in such a hurry to find them because he wanted to stop them before they killed the real, actual Loki.

* * *

Everyone agreed and we were all ready and suited before finishing lunch. JARVIS had caught sight of some Chitauri near Glasgow and we were heading there. I imagined Loki had moved from his home to have a place to come back to, but was caught before he could go any further - stuck. Tony was flying in his suit, Thor using Mjolnir and Steve and I on a Stark enhanced helicopter, with Steve on the controls. It wasn't long before we got there. I was getting a bit anxious, not wanting to relive New York.

Thor and Tony got down on what looked like "alien camp base" and Steve was going there, too, when I saw a smaller group of Chitauri playing with something. No, playing with someone. Someone with black hair and his hands chained. Someone bleeding and who barely had energy to conjure sparks on his hands to try and keep the enemies away. I opened the door of the chopper and was green before I reached the floor.

No more mister nice guy. No more Bruce Banner.

The Chitauri had to pay and they were knocked out in seconds. Using one to beat up the rest never failed. Loki shrank away, with all the strength he had left, looking at me, afraid.

"LOKI NOT AFRAID. HULK HELP LOKI. LOKI FRIEND."

Loki seemed hesitant (which was kind of normal, after the beating the Hulk gave him last time) but then his eyes widened.

"Behind you!"

The remaining Chitauri was out in seconds. It was no rival for the Hulk. Looking back at Loki it was obvious he was in a pitiable state. The torn clothes. The ragged breathing. The blood everywhere. And there was a wide variety of Chitauri weapons with different purposes (electrical, burning, shooting) near him and different injuries that matched each weapon. The poor guy.

"LOKI HURT."

He smiled a bit, giving his bloodied face a disturbingly careless expression.

"Well, aren't you a thoughtful green thing? I am damaged, but I could return to battle getting rid of this chains - they tamper with my magic."

Said and done. One green punch and Loki's rusty handcuffs were broken in two. Loki quickly made the remaining parts disappear and was trying to stand, looking around for more Chitauri, but there were none. With much effort, he got on a standing position, looking determined. But as he tried to walk he swayed and was on the floor, again. There was no way he was going to battle again, so I stopped him.

"LOKI HURT. ESCAPE. AVENGERS SMASH CHITAURI."

"All right, but only because it's you. Tell your less green half he is always welcome in London. And thanks."

On a flash of green mist, he was gone.

* * *

And so, I was back in London.

The Chitauri had been easy to take down, and had been sent to place they came from, without the means to travel between realms. They were told that if they ever came back they would be defeated again, and they seemed to believe it. As angry as they were, they knew they stood no chance against the defences the Earth had. Some of the few that had made it here were dead now - every time they came here their numbers decreased. This would, at least, buy us some time.

I had been the only one to actually see Loki and had told the rest that he'd been space-jumping between realms when the Chitauri had caught him, but that he was alive and apparently had no evil intentions. I saw both Thor and Tony breathe relieved at this: Thor because he still had a brother (mad as he could be) who was apparently in one piece and Tony because the explosion HE caused had not killed anyone else. As much as he disliked Loki, he knew as much as I did that Thor still cared for him (a lot) and their relationship would probably be a bit worse if Loki was killed for something Tony had done.

After debriefing some agents SHIELD had in Scotland we set off home, again. I told Steve to leave me in London, if he could, to see some friends. The official story was that I was going to visit Dr. Connelly, to personally thank him for helping us (through his book) with the Clint situation.

But the truth was I was worried. This Loki was not as strong as the one from the invasion. Whatever they'd done to him while in jail had messed up with his strength and his ability to heal. And there had been something when he saw the Hulk, something I had never seen on his face before (not when we lived together, not when he was villain): despair. As if an angry Hulk could mean death. As if he hadn't the power to recover anymore. And the Chitauri had given him one hell of a beating. What if he didn't have enough strength to make it back to London? What if SHIELD found him passed out in some alley and imprisoned him? No, that man had risked his cover, probably his life when he broke me out of prison, he risked exposure when he gave me his key, his phone number... I needed to know he was all right. Just needed it.

I went by his place but no one was answering the door. Called the number I had but it was disconnected. After some minutes I saw Mrs. Roberts exiting the door.

"I don't know if you remember me..." I started, because it had been a while since I was last there and I didn't know if Loki's spell (the one to hide my identity) would be still in place or not.

"Of course, dear! You are Jack's friend, aren't you? You came to see him?"

"Yes, but I think he's not home."

"I just had some terrible news, I'm afraid" Oh-oh. He wasn't dead, was he? "He was found unconscious on the street, someone attacked him and stole his wallet. I was just going to the hospital to see him, maybe you'd like to come with me?"

I nodded and went with the old lady to the hospital, head full of questions. Was this all a cover or had someone actually mugged him on the street after the Chitauri attack? And wouldn't the doctors notice he was not exactly human? The way there seemed eternal.

When we finally got there and were finally reaching the room I had another nasty surprise. Tony, the one and only Tony Stark was talking with one of Loki's doctors. This couldn't be good.

"Who's that, dear? Another scientist friend of yours?" Mrs Roberts asked.

"Yeah."

What was Tony doing there? Was he going to expose Loki? Why was he even here? Why did I even care so much? Arggh.

I asked Tony if we could speak on private and he smiled, while the old lady entered the hospital room, ignoring the doctor.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I wanted to know why you were being so secretive about this guy and was curious of how your other friends were, and JARVIS picked up someone checking in a hospital under his name. The police think it's been some robbers but it kinda looks like some angry aliens wanted revenge, doesn't it?"

Damn. Even under the black and blue he'd seen who he was. And he was angry.

"You know that he has a very rare syndrome that has so many abnormalities that make him almost a different species? Like, I don't know, a frost giant, maybe?"

Under the sarcasm I could see the confusion and anger.

"What the hell, Bruce? Your british friend is Loki?"

I had to answer and I had to be convincing.

"He was the one who broke me out of SHIELD's prison. Took me here, to London, with his magic and I lived with him two months. Two months were the most evil thing he did was spell some money out of an ATM. He rescued me, Tony, protected me from all the people who were looking for me. You know why the Hulk was nowhere to be seen? Because I was happy, I had freedom and a place to live -his place- and a flatmate and... It was great, like a vacation. I didn't want to lie to you but I just, I couldn't tell you because then you'd want to get him back to prison in Asgard, where he belongs, yes, but I couldn't do that to the guy after he freed me."

Tony looked inside the room where Loki lay, surrounded by tubes and machines, all bandaged up.

"Seems a bit unbelievable." He said, but his expression was softer.

"You tell me. One minute I was in prison somewhere in the states and the next I'm having tea with the god of mischief. It felt unreal. But it was real. He saved me from SHIELD, from all those people criticising me."

He looked at me, then at the person behind the window again.

"So... his face. That was Thor's dad?"

"Well, he's never said it with so many words, but yes, I think so. He's all covered in scars, some old, some new.. seems like justice in Asgard is a bit more extreme tahn our own."

"You're trying to make me feel bad so I don't tell the others about him. You shouldn't protect him, Bruce, he is a criminal." Tony said, but something told me he didn't really mean it.

"And so was I until you guys cleared my name. For a long while, I was as guilty as he was. Being put in isolation, being moved so nobody could find me, no visits, just nothing. And then, suddenly I had a home and friends and tea in the mornings. Please, Tony, just... give him a chance. He deserves it. For me, if not for him."

He was not sure of what to do, so I just let him think about and went on to the room. There he was, my former flatmate, white as a sheet, with most his face and neck filled with cuts, stitched up or bandaged and a nasal cannula under his nose. He was still unconscious. Damned Chitauri. And the thought that I (the Hulk, but still) once gave him beating as bad as this. NOw it felt so wrong. I could see him again, winking, telling me that we were free and alive and talking about particle collisions. With that calm expression that screamed _after everything, we are free, the worst is past_. His hands were bandaged, too. The eyes closed.

After a while, Mrs Roberts went down to the shop, to get some flowers for the room.

Tony came in the room, still a bit reluctant. Took a good look at the man.

"So... it was him who wrote that arsenic thing that helped Clint?"

"Yeah. He was- is pretty proud of it. Doctor Jack Connelly, scientist: Loki, for his friends. And look at him now. Beat up, motionless. He was always awake before me, well, almost always, and he would do this delicious things for breakfast, even if he hardly ate. And he liked Deep purple and Led zeppelin, like you. And Pink Floyd. All those weird rock things."

Tony was obviously hesitant. As much hate as he may had felt before, it was difficult being angry at someone lying in a hospital bed, injured, vulnerable. He looked at me and rolled his eyes.

"I have an idea." Tony said. "But I want to make sure he is really not a threat. I'll come back tomorrow."

During the rest of the evening Katia came - the girl from the party, she was happy to see me there. (_He missed you, you know?_ she said, _He would never admit it, but he was happier when you were there to talk about science and things. Less lonely.). _ The police asked some questions about the attack and one of his professors from Cambridge came too. We all commented the bad luck the man had, with much politeness and accents.

Loki awoke two days later.

The green eyes were glassy, but focused on me.

"Banner. What...?"

He interrupted himself when he saw Tony behind me. His expression went from scared to resigned in seconds. He tried to manage a sitting position, but it was obvious that moving wasn't painless for the guy. He sighed.

"Oh... do not tell me I have to think another cover now... Another realm... After I worked so hard on this one."

"So I've seen." Tony said. "You have convinced half the hospital that _the Jotun syndrome_ is something that actually exists. Pretty impressive. Not sure why you would go through all the trouble, though."

"My landlady has a key to my apartment. When I arrived here I was in bad shape, she could have found me unconscious when she came to collect the rent or water the plants. And she would call an ambulance. I needed to have something that would explain my... peculiarities." He said, not without effort.

He finally settled and breathed heavily, looking at us, a bit sad with those green eyes. Tony continued speaking.

"Why did you do it? Save Bruce, I mean. After all the work you'd done to go unnoticed here why would you risk it all? You wanted to get inside the Avengers? Get revenge through us?"

I was getting a bit angry, Tony was being quite harsh with a man that was still in a very delicate condition. But I managed to calm down. Last thing we needed was a Hulk destroying the room. Loki sighed.

"I know of the hells of prison, Stark. Intimately. Doctor Banner is a intelligent man and did not deserve such treatment. You could not break him out, so I did. You can never know with me, do you? And I am not all rotten inside, despite what Thor may have told you."

Loki looked around his room and saw the get well cards. Mrs Roberts, her grandsons, Katia, Professor Pierce. His life in London. A life he probably thought all that was about to end.

"Well... here's what we're gonna do." Tony said. "I'm not gonna rat you out to your brother or Fury... because Bruce has asked me to, and because honestly, I'm not sure I agree with what they were doing to you in Asgard. And inadvertently maybe, but you saved Clint's life. But - if we ever catch you on the evil path, you go down."

Loki nodded, tired.

"And in exchange for me keeping my mouth shut, you'll help me with any magic-doer criminals or with poisons or with Asgardians, anything you know. No buts. If I'm not having you in jail then I want those wits you used to build this fancy life on my service."

The god quirked an eyebrow at Stark and then looked at me with a wild expression that said _can you believe this guy?_

"I was badly injured because of something you did, Stark. I will ask for something in return for my services. You'll finance my next research."

"Sure, I could put you in Stark's industries payroll, as scientific consultant."

"Not only that, I want you to write an article praising me and saying how it's a delight to count with british genius Jack Connelly among your workers. And be creative."

"Boy, you do have a world of self-esteem issues, don't you? Deal. I'll write something so gorgeous people will think I'm in love."

Tony left not long after that. I was happy, not having to hold on to that biiig secret.

And we were left alone.

"Long time no see, my singing partner. How do you do?"

I smiled at him and started talking. And then talked some more. Science. Avengers. Explained everything about the Clint incident (_I'm glad, _he said,_ he was always my favourite minion_). He told me about the projects he was working on now - a project about black holes, really interesting.I decided to stay in London until he was completely recovered and felt, once again, at ease.

I hoped that, with time, more people learned about him. About this other Loki who was much more complex and much more caring than the crazy assassin they all knew.

I hoped that they saw there were more sides to him than New York and Stuttgart.

There was also London.

Where my friend lived.

A/N: You thought I was done with this? Well, apparently not. Hope you liked this installment and the angst and hurt (I just can't stay away, can I?) please do tell me what you thought, every comment is appreaciated.

Review and make an author happy!


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